


Romance for Dummies

by ExplicitSquidPunk (Metalopod), Lie_Menagerie (Octotrooper)



Category: Jackbox Games, Jackbox Party Pack, Monster Seeking Monster, You Don't Know Jack
Genre: F/M, Jackbox Games - Freeform, Jackbox Party Pack - Freeform, Love, Monster Seeking Monster - Freeform, Parody, Romance, Romantic Comedy, puppet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22029142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metalopod/pseuds/ExplicitSquidPunk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octotrooper/pseuds/Lie_Menagerie
Summary: Billy O'Brien is crass, crude, and rude. Apparently, that makes him boyfriend material!Part of the Jackbox Extended Universe, which is totally not something I just made up.Not family-friendly - we mean it! (Don't worry, we're not going any farther than what's already in the Jackbox games)
Relationships: Billy O'Brien/Original Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Romance for Dummies

Love had left me with a useless wedding gown, an expensive ring, and a broken heart. 

Two years. TWO YEARS of my life I’d spent with that rotten bastard. We were set to be married a week from today, then he texted me using the wrong name. Twice. Turned out he had a side chick since day one. I wanted to throw everything he’d given me into the ocean -- but the financially savvy part of me had a smarter idea. 

“ _Pauley’s Pawn-O-Rama_ ,” I murmured as I pulled into a parking space in front of the dingy building. “Never thought I’d see you again.”

The inside was darker than I remembered, with shelves lined with the kinds of weird knick-knacks that only wealthy eccentrics could want. Vintage-style tin signs coated the walls. Near the back wall sat two glass cases filled with jewelry of all sorts. A pot-bellied, older man with a plaid shirt, suspenders, and a scraggly beard stood behind them, his hands folded together as he watched me walk through the front door.

“Well, well. Marybelle Berkey,” he said. “I thought you’d stopped trying your luck at the pawn game.” 

“I’m not here to sell my Dad’s old coins, Pauley,” I said, dropping the ring and a few necklaces on the counter. “I need you to take these off my hands. I don’t care about the price. I can’t look at them anymore."

“Bad breakup?” Pauley’s tone was soft.

“That two-faced creep,” I huffed, “was seeing someone else the whole time.” Pauley heaved a sigh as he took out his jeweler’s loupe.

“Two-Faced Creeps. Piggy bastards. They’re the worst monsters you can date!” he said. I tried not to roll my eyes. If it had been anyone other than Pauley, I would’ve thought they were making a metaphor. 

Pauley was always insisting that monsters were all around us. I don’t mean eldritch abominations -- there’s plenty of evidence for those (not to mention the recent overnight disappearance of the entire city of Cleveland) -- I mean Halloween ghouls, like witches, invisible people, vengeful ghosts, you name it. If it was in a classic movie, Pauley believed in it.

“This is a very expensive ring,” Pauley said after a few minutes of inspection. “Looks like the Creep wanted to keep up a good act.”

“What can you give me for it?” I asked.

“A ring this nice? Hundred bucks,” he said.

“Good,” I said through gritted teeth. “That makes my heart a little less sad.” 

As Pauley inspected the two necklaces I’d brought, my eyes trailed around the store. I hadn’t planned on buying anything, but a large price tag reading “WHAT A DEAL! $99.99!” jumped out at me.

“Billy O’Brien...” I was barely able to make out the faded label on the side of the box in the dim light.

“Huh? You interested in that?” Pauley asked.

“Uh, I’m not sure what it is,” I said.

“Billy is a ventriloquist puppet. He once belonged to the great Cookie Masterson,” Pauley said proudly.

“The cookie what…?” For half a second, I thought I heard a muffled whine coming from the direction of the box.

“Ahh, I forgot. You’re one of those people who doesn’t know jack,” Pauley said.“Cookie is a game show host, good at what he does. He’s been hosting different shows since 2001. Still can’t believe he came to our neck of the woods.”

“Could I see the puppet?” I asked. 

“At your own risk,” Pauley said. “He’s a real monster. I mean it!” With the help of a step-stool, Pauley shuffled the large box off of its shelf and placed it on the jewelry counter. I lifted the lid. Inside was a sizeable ventriloquist’s dummy. He had freckles painted onto his pink wooden cheeks, an oversized red nose, and a snaggle-toothed jaw. His brown hair was neatly parted in a formal style to match his suit and black tie. The puppet’s little glass eyes were closed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to touch him. Lying there with his tiny cloth arms folded across his chest, he looked like a corpse in a casket. 

“Say hello to the nice lady, Billy,” Pauley said, lifting the puppet out of the box. The puppet’s eyes popped open. One of them was stuck facing upward while the other rolled loosely in its socket. Pauley’s face turned red. “Oh, come on! Say something!” 

“Is it supposed to talk?” I asked.

“Usually I can’t get the little scamp to shut up!” Pauley said, shaking the puppet vigorously. 

“Let me see if I can make it work,” I said. “I have a way with dolls.” Pauley scowled but handed the puppet to me. I tried to prop him up into a sitting position. He was a lot heavier than I expected him to be. I had to lean his little head against my chest to get him to sit up straight. I slipped my hand under the puppet’s shirt and felt around his sawdust-stuffed body, hoping to find a button or a pull-string.

_Ka-thump. Ka-thump._

Oh god, no!

I dropped the puppet back into its box and shuddered. For nearly three full heartbeats, I felt as if I was caressing a tiny lover instead of holding a celebrity’s worn-out puppet. The hell was wrong with me? 

“See now, that’s his Monster Power working its magic,” Pauley said. 

“Monster Power?” I shouldn’t have asked that.

“It’s like they say: ‘sad people love puppets.’ You’re all hot ‘n bothered right now ‘cuz you’re fresh out of a relationship.” My face grew hot knowing that Pauley had noticed my sudden puppet-induced arousal. 

“Back to the necklaces,” I said, hoping to steer the subject away from creepy dummies. “How much can I get for the opal?” 

“He gets food comas super easily,” Pauley continued as if I didn’t exist. “So if you want him to shut up, just give him a hoagie.”

“Pauley, my necklaces.”

“Matter of fact, maybe he’s still out of it from the footlong I gave him earlier...”

“Pauley…”

“And don’t mind his foul mouth! He talks that way to everyone!”

“Pauley!” I yelled, restraining myself from slamming my hands on the glass countertop. “I’m here to sell jewelry, not buy puppets!”

“Who said anything about buying?” Pauley asked. “I’m _giving_ him to you.”

“What!? Why? You said he was a monster!” Pauley looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

“Well, from the look in your eyes, he’s already yours.” Dammit.

-x-

I knew better than to try and win an argument with Pauley, which was why there was now a large wooden box marked “Billy O’Brien” in my passenger seat. The dummy had come with a yellowed instruction manual, a second pink suit, a long blonde wig, and an even smaller dummy that could fit perfectly over Billy’s hand. (Pauley reassured me that only the full-sized dummy was ‘sentient.’) 

The only thing I could hear other than the quiet hum of road noise was the box sliding back and forth on the passenger seat. The silence was uncomfortable. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” I said in my best “silly” voice, “I’m Billy O’Brien and this is my friend, The Marvelous Marybelle! We’ve got a good one for you tonight. Try not to fall off the edge of your seats!” My shoulders slumped. My imaginary puppet routine sounded worse than I thought it would. I didn’t have the chops for entertaining people.

“Guess you’re gonna be a mannequin,” I said, glancing over at the box. If nothing else, the large dummy would be a great form for sewing 24” doll clothes for my Pincushion store. The parade of tiny outfits dancing through my head made me so excited that I accidentally rolled over a high curb, causing Billy’s box to slide off the seat and crash into the dashboard.

A muffled, nasally voice screamed. I slammed the brakes so hard my tires skidded. That voice had come from inside the Billy O’Brien box. Which would mean…

“Billy…?” I ventured.

“YEAH? AND WHO ARE YOU SUTTOSED TO DE?” barked the voice inside the box. 

“YOU’RE ALIVE?” I yelled.

“Course I an, dunny!”

“Oh, god,” I said, my stomach turning sour as I realized I had fondled a tiny, unconscious wooden man in public. I picked the box off of the floor and lifted the lid. A wooden head turned and a pair of azure glass eyes met my stare. My heart skipped a beat. . 

“I thought I’d have to wait for the old nan to kick the ducket defore getting outta there,” Billy said, tucking his arms behind his head and casually crossing his legs. “Glad _SONEONE_ showed ne sone love.” 

“Whoa there, little man,” I said. “Love had nothing to do with it. Pauley gave you to me as a gift. He was happy to get rid of you. Now I see why.” 

Billy folded his arms and let out a snort. 

“Well, I’n hatty to get rid of hin!” he said. “He kett ne in that dox nore than Cookie ever did!” 

“Wait a minute!” I said. “If Pauley’s monster conspiracies are real, then you’re casting some sort of evil love spell on me!” It made perfect sense, why his whiny voice was filling my stomach with butterflies, why I wanted to dive into the oceans of his deep blue glass eyes, why I wanted to kiss each of his painted-on freckles one by one… 

“You love… NE!?” Billy pointed to his face in shock and I watched as his jaw fell open. His rosy cheeks darkened a few shades. Wasn’t he a haunted doll? Why did he seem genuinely surprised?

“I don’t love you! I… I hardly know you!” I stammered. Ugh, even the way he flopped his little arms around was enough to make my throat tighten. An image of his tiny hand wrapped around two of my fingers flashed through my mind. 

“Why are you staring at your hand?” Billy asked, squinting at me.

“Maybe because my hand is really interesting,” I snapped. 

“Can you steed it ut, then?” Billy asked. “I have to take a tiss!” 

“You need to... what?” It wasn’t too hard to decipher the puppet’s unique accent, but surely he didn’t just say...

“TISS! GO TO THE LITTLE TUTTET’S ROON! I NEED TO USE THE TOILET, DUNNY!” Oh. I put my car back into drive and returned to the road, turning down the familiar streets towards my apartment complex. 

I was starting to think I had just been gifted one hell of a roommate.


End file.
